Day -42: Tamales + "You're on fire"

It's our second day back from spring break. I was very sick for the last two weeks before break, like so sick that I taught for two full days almost entirely without speaking because it hurt so much to talk. It's amazing how effective teaching without being able to talk can be. My students were fervently attentive because they knew that if they whispered while I tried to say something, they wouldn't be able to hear me. Plus, they knew I was mostly going to show what they were supposed to do with actions anyway, so they followed my every move. When Juan, my most gifted, squirmy student, got up to show his super-long list of brainstormed words with prefixes to a friend (when he was supposed to be sitting down), instead of calling out his name, I just physically (gently) put my hands on his shoulders and guided him back to where he was supposed to be. Instead of using my voice to get students' attention, I brought in a bunch of new instruments and changed my attention signal to a new instrument each day. (I used to use a new instrument each month, but I'd gotten lazy about it.) I would write instructions on the board and point to students who were volunteering to read them. It worked great - except that I couldn't really teach any new material. It did reinforce two ideas I have, though: 1) Teachers should talk less. 2) Novelty is important in motivation and classroom management.

Now we're back and I can (mostly) talk. Somehow those weeks of not being able to do nearly as much work as I normally do, plus my now-final decision to go to grad school next year, have made me a much more laid-back teacher. I am more focused on enjoying my students and less wound-up about whether they master identifying trapezoids and parallelograms today. When Juan came in after lunch to get a book he wanted to take to his English Language Development class, I was walking to my desk and we almost bonked into each other, but at the last second we each veered aside with crazy swirling swimming motions. I just started cracking up, and all my students did do. Those moments of levity are so important. But when I'm stressed out, my stress pervades the room, and it dehumanizes all of us.

One way I'm trying to enjoy my students more is that I reinstated lunch with me as a prize for the team that earns the most team points each week. I used team points every year in the past. Students sit in groups of four, and I would award points throughout the week for teams that cleaned up quickly, were listening attentively, were all focused on whatever they were supposed to be doing. I abolished them this year, though, because I just didn't like the gimmicky nature of it, there are always a few students who figure out ways to make their teams win over and over, and it's impossible to be truly fair. But I used them as a management tool when I couldn't talk and when I had subs while I was sick, and I just decided to let them stand. Today Team 6 got to eat lunch with me, and they were excited! I brought tamales, and we had such a fun lunch. A few students were kind of freaked out by my vegetarian tamales that didn't look like the ones their moms make, but after a few brave souls tried them and dubbed them delicious, the others dug in. One girl was sitting quietly throughout lunch. "Are you a shy girl?" another girl inquired, kind of out of nowhere. The shy girl nodded back. It's unpredictable lines like these that I love, that make being with my students so much fun.

I met with a small group of students after school to give them extra help with long division. The group got stumped by one part of a long division problem. Marco, a boy with learning disabilites who really struggles with basic math facts, started showing a strategy I'd demonstrated a long time ago for doing division problems. He drew circles to represent the number of groups he was making and then put dots in each circle as he divided the dividend among the groups. "Wow! You got smarter over vacation," a gifted student anmed Alex said to Marco. "You're on fire." Marco didn't seem to feel bad about the back-handed nature of this compliment. He beamed, happy to help others when they were stuck. Later, when Alex was stuck again, he said, "I want to be on fire like Marco." I need to remember to try to help each student feel like they are masters at something - some strategy, some topic, something.